Sunday, April 25, 2010

Back to the hills again

In wintersThe water of the lakeBecomes colder and turns into a mirrorAnd the stars, sun, moonAll float on its surface The boats shiver and bobAs the wind blowsAnd the city lights set the stage For a tryst they so eagerly await The nights are cold and long

The bells at Naina Devi Punctuated by azaanAnd underlined by shabadRise in a celestial crescendo Announce the arrival of the dayThe hills covered with fallen oak leavesWake up covered with a sheet of frostAnd shake off their winter coldAs the dawn drift into the valley lazilyThey sway in harmony to greet each otherAnd shed more leaves on the roads we tread onWaiting for us to come back together

The sun warms up the dayAnd the city comes to lifeCars, buses, rickshawsAll create a deafening pandemoniumChildren are at home as school are closedOn the flats several Yorkers are bowledSeveral sixes are hitChildren play endlessly and exhaust themselves The hill watches them all,The trees the lakeAll watch them and smileBut wonder sometimes where we are and how are we doing.

As the evening sets in,Once again the bells at Naina DeviThe shabad and AzanRise together in a divine crescendoAnd then silence fallsNo crickets, no cicadasNo movementNo birds no butterfliesThe city sleepsAnd the stars and the moonAnd the city lightsAll alight on the mirrored waters of the lakeWaiting for us to return.